Your Not-So-Average Pokemon Fanfiction
by GameFictionX9
Summary: I wanted to do two fanfics simultaneously, so here's yet another Pokémon fanfic for the world to enjoy, along with the other thousand or so. Might be having bad language, for now rated T.
1. In the Genes

In the Genes

Location: Abandoned Lab

 ** _({({({({({({({({({({({({({({({({_**

"There it is. I truly cannot believe it. There it is, right there."

"Uh-huh."

"Thank you."

"Yeah, I know I'm awesome. Don't annoy me with the obvious facts, buddy."

"I'm much more than thankful, you know."

"Great, just great. Now, for what you promised."

"I know, I know...but are you sure?"

"Sure? About what, exactly?"

"About this. If I do this, it could mean the end of peace between humans and Pokemon for a long time."

"So what, really? A lot of war? Some nukes, some Nidokings? I've planned for that."

"But..."

"But nothing. The world thinks that some Pokémon are better than each other. In some cases, the world is right. In others, what the world thinks is right is a whole lot of crud. If you help me, all of the little wimps can get their revenge on those crud-thinkers."

"Crud-thinkers?"

"You know, the big guys who make it? The big guys who treat the little guys like shmutz on the back of their shoes, if they have any? Those crud-thinkers."

"Ok, fine. But don't tell Arceus I did anything. I've been in trouble a lot of times."

"My lips are sealed, Mewtwo."

 **To Be Continued...**


	2. You Just Got Owned

You Just Got Owned

 _Pallet Town_

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"What?"

His hearing was going downhill.

"Please come over to the side of my good ear and say it again," Venusaur would always say, for his age got to him quite quickly. "Now child, I'm sorry, but I'd like to hear that once more," Venusaur would ramble on in places that are a bit loud. "Oh, dang nabbit, just get my ear trumpet," he would say when he was in a bad mood.

And if what you said annoyed him _and_ got through to his ear drum?

"Well, now you're making me wish that fighting-type _directly_ punched me in the ear."

This time was one of the much latter. Young grandson Bulbasaur told his granddad that he didn't want to do Pokémon battles. He was trying to give a good explanation for the matter, but his grandpa wasn't wanting to hear it. "Bulbasaur, I would normally let you explain, but that is the weirdest thing you've ever said to me."

"But granddad..."

"But what, Bulbasaur? Pokémon fight. Pokémon fight a lot. Heck, you know about the times I've scuffled with the normal type that moved in from another region. He thinks that since he lives next to a tree, it's his..."

"But some things in life I don't want to _literally_ fight for. Some things deserve peace, verbal skills, and a compromise that is good for both sides."

"You'll learn that some much nastier things deserve a lot of poison."

"Grandad, c'mon! Not everything needs a fight. Not everything needs a Pokémon battle."

The flower on Venusaur's back began to open up a bit more. "Why don't you sit down, right here next to me."

Venusaur sat on the nice muddy ground, which a human with expensive clothing would not even stand on. For an animal used to sitting in mud, it was like a nice chair.

Bulbasaur sat down next to him. For a while, they didn't speak. Then, Venusaur decided to.

"Bulbasaur, I'm going to tell you something you'll have to remember for your entire lifetime."

"Okay."

"From the day I told you, all the way to the day of Arceus' judgement."

"All right."

"You will remember it when you get a trainer, when you get a girlfriend..."

"Hurry up, grandpa."

Venusaur put a hand on his grandson's arm. His left ear slightly flattened out, and he took on a serious face.

"My boy. My grandson. In this world, there are two different options. They are to fight and to not. I love it that you always choose to not; don't stop. However, in the situation that peace has done all it could, yet failed, you will sadly have to do what you do not like."

"That could happen?"

"Please come over to the side of my good ear and say it again, Bulbasaur."

Bulbasaur yelled instead of moved. "COULD THAT HAPPEN?"

"Oh, too loud! A day when you have to fight, when nothing else worked? Not likely. But still possible."

Bulbasaur thought for a moment, while Venusaur tried fixing his back. "Aargh, stupid old man spine..." he would ramble about.

"Will the fighting be my fault in that situation?"

"No. It will be the fault of the one who forced you to fight."

"You know, I could make him tired instead."

"Tuckered out by repeatedly dodging, eh? Good loophole."

Venusaur looked straight into Bulbasaur's eyes. "Now, let me tell ya a story."

"About adventure?"

"About a time when I had to fight against my will, Bulby."

 _ **To Be Continued**_


	3. Note to Azelf

**Chapter 1: Note to Azelf**

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 **The Venusaur in the previous entry is this entire fanfic's Bulbasaur.**

 **The entirety of Venusaur's tale is an extended flashback.**

 **Also, let me now say that all references within my fanfic, not directly related to Pokémon, are not legally owned by me. For instance, in this situation, I do not own Star Trek.**

 **Aaaaaaaaaaaand...this has nothing to do with Azelf.**

 _ **()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()**_

 _To the respected parent(s) currently taking care of_ _Bulbasaur_ _,_

 _Around a century and a half ago, there was a meeting between two of human society's most intelligent and rational members; they decided to build a university, honoring all professional Poketrainers everywhere, from the landlocked countries to the pacific islands, and from that university came who truly were the best of the best. For us humble Pokémon, however, the vast chambers under the now unoccupied building is where we teach our youth, where we invite all and everyone, and where we send out the most magnificent against mental challenges. The humans left the building alone and untidy; we came to claim it after the straight-standing, innovation-making organisms took their leave, around a century before the making of this letter._

 _Thus, our wonderful school, simply dubbed Satoshi Academy by its makers, nicknamed Satoshi, was brought into the world._

 _Now, alongside great amounts of amazement and joy, we must say that_ _Bulbasaur_ _has passed all of the tests given to him, the highest possible grade on each. Only Psychic types get to such heights as this student has; considering_ _Bulbasaur_ _is not psychic nor a psychic type, we do declare that he has an extraordinarily bright mind, and an extraordinarily bright future to go with it. We humbly ask for your son's presence in our school, for a talented youth needs a talented location of learning to go to._

 _Sincerely and most respectfully coming from,_

 _Mismagius_

 _ **()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()**_

Bulbasaur looked at the letter once more.

It wasn't the type of acceptance letter for high schools that humans make. Many acceptance letters with humans are just a tad similar; not enough to point out immediately, but enough to show you that the creators of the letters do not give a personalized speech to each and every accepted person. Since Pokémon do not have buttloads of advanced technology, like us humans, they cannot save documents and/or templates for documents on computers; this leads to a very different letter each time, because no one wants to write a formal college letter _over and over and over and over._

In fact, Bulbasaur was surprised Mismagius even wrote it; she was a _Ghost_ type.

He gave it back to his father, an Ivysaur. "I'm accepted?"

"Yes."

He paused. "And the school is in…"

"Alola."

"What the...but dad, I thought we weren't going to go there. I let _you_ choose where I'm going to college, and you choose the one place I dislike!"

"Times are hard around Kanto, son, and you know that. The forests are shrinking, the bodies of water are drying up bit by bit, and the Pokémon are moving out. Ever since that rather silent fellow became the champion, Pokémon got scared so badly that they either went into hiding or took a trip to Kalos."

"They why don't we go to Kalos instead?"

Ivysaur narrowed his eyes. "I have...very annoying cousins. They think they're so special, with their mega stones and everything, but to tell the truth, they'd be horrible influences on you. Also, it's free of charge. But it's not bad; if you go to this school, they'll give you the best. I've been there before."

"Ugh...you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Sure?"

"Really sure, son."

"Sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure, Bulbasaur, but surely it surely seems as if surely you're not sure if I'm sure, and surely trying to reassure your sureness at whether you surely or not surely have your sureness reassured. Surely."

"Fine." Bulbasaur walked away. "To boldly go where no one should…"

Ivysaur looked at Bulbasaur leaving. They were not in any house of any sort; just in the middle of a few very tall oak trees. When Ivysaur sensed the Flying type up in one of them, he flung a Bullet Seed into the heavens; a Pidgeot then crashed into the grass below.

The Pidgeot was not pleased. "When you want to say it to my face, don't fling it to my eyeball, you load of...!"

"Nice to meet you too, stalker. Wait a minute, you're the mailman!"

The bird got up. "A mailman you assaulted."

"Ooh dear, I'm really sorry sir, I'll...wait another minute, you're the dad of Bulbasaur's friend, Pidgeotto! I've heard of you from my son, and you have the same scar over your left eye."

"Holy Arceus, so sweet old Bulbasaur's dad hits me where my scar is?"

"Oh goodness, I'm sorry it hit your..."

"Whelp, swell to meet ya, crass to meet your seed to my face, but I have a job, so allow me to politely ignore you and impolitely move on. Here's the mail for ya, too."

Pidgeotto took a note previously attached to his talon with a bit of a vine, then gave it to Ivysaur. As there were no envelopes in Pokémon communities, he could read it without the small labor of ripping through paper first; various shifty characters could view the note as the mailpokemon walked/flew/hovered/swam past, but the mail service Pokémon created really does not give a damn. You miss the one opportunity to become sentient, and you have to settle with the type of sentience that lacks inventions of metal and flame.

"How're the kids doing in school, Pidgeot?"

"You don't know?"

"My son's not overly social, nor 'under-social', but simply someone who doesn't talk about feelings and/or experiences."

"Well, the kids aren't doing too nice, you see? There's this one youth that really ticks them off. Foreign exchange student, nothing against that; he goes by the name Birdbrain at their high school."

"That's more likely a nickname."

"Nickname? Sure, they called him Decidueye as well, but Birdbrain fits the bill when it comes to how he acts and all. Has a ring to it, too."

Ivysaur dropped the note in surprise. "A Decidueye bully? Goodness, that must be the reason why he hates Alola so much these days."

"Aye, maybe you should try and change his thoughts on the matter. Nothing wrong with Alola itself. Thanks to all of these new regions, the Poketrainer world decides to spend a bit of time elsewhere, not harassing us Kanto 'mons. You think I can manage a family _and_ make sure my son doesn't get a Pokeball thrown at him 24/7? That's like thinking I can fly and carry a foot-wide ball of iron simultaneously. Some birds _do_ participate in doing that these days, but you get the point."

 _ **To be Continued...**_


End file.
